


And Now There Isn't.

by shamebucket



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Hugs, Pre-Suicide Mission, Tenderness, Treat, could be shippy if you want; doesn't have to be if you don't want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23241973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamebucket/pseuds/shamebucket
Relationships: Legion & Female Shepard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25
Collections: All The Nice Things Flash Exchange 2020





	And Now There Isn't.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enisy/gifts).



"Shepard-Commander." 

The Commander is of particular interest to Legion and has been for over two years. They have noticed many things about her over the weeks that they have worked together, things they couldn't have gleaned from reports or footage alone. 

Like the way her eyes started softening once she realized that they were not an enemy, how her tone became less accusatory with time. They seemed to scare her at first. A few hundred among them knew that this would likely happen once they called out to her, but this is what they had deemed to do from the start. Find Shepard-Commander. 

There was a hole. Her body was gone when they found the wreckage of the Normandy. They paused when they found the spare piece of armor left behind, torn from her corpse. For years, their arm was in danger of falling off - a single misplaced gun blast could have shredded it from their shoulder. 

It is repaired now, like the former heretics that are now a part of their consensus. Forever changed, but complete. 

The Commander turns her head as Legion runs through these thoughts. Legion has long since learned the intricacies of human body language - she's stopped crossing her arms around them, a sign of trust. Her lips turn up slightly at the corners. That fondness doesn't come from mere duty alone. Still, she is unpredictable. 

"Hey." She approaches the Geth, all 1,183 programs within the mobile platform Legion. As time goes on, the consensus feels something close to what organics would deem as disappointment. Organics and synthetics are different, and yet Legion wishes that Shepard-Commander could access all of the Geth at once, understand them as they understand themselves. They think that she would understand more than she already does. - Her fingers tap rhythmically her old armor, a part of Legion now. "There are no guarantees that there will be a tomorrow. Did you call me here to say goodbye?" 

"Negative." 

"Why, then?" 

Legion hesitates. There is an internal disagreement over which set of words is most appropriate. If only Shepard-Commander could understand their thoughts digitally instead of having to rely on analogue - it takes far too long, anyway. "There was a hole," they repeat. 

"I noticed." 

"Indeed. It was visible." Legion traces along the faint, glowing scar on her right cheek. Shepard's eyes widen. "Does it hurt?" they ask, more because they think it's polite than because they are actually curious. (Although, a small number of processes loudly interject, a part of them _is_ genuinely curious.)

She snorts. "Nah, not really." She collects herself. Legion wonders what goes on within the human mind. A single person has many jobs it must perform on its own - to Legion, this seems lonely. To be alone is to not exist. What an awful thought. "Does this hurt?" She slides her hand into the still gaping hole in Legion's chest. 

"Synthetics do not feel pain as humans do." 

"But?" 

"... It does not hurt." 

Shepard-Commander hums to herself and leans forward, resting her forehead on her old armor. "That's good." Her hands caress Legion's platform, experimental and not demanding. "Does anything feel good? I don't see the Geth hug or anything like that." 

"Not in particular. We are one. There is no need for our platforms to touch. It is inefficient and unnecessary." A large but vocal minority protests. They decide it is best if Shepard hears what they have to say. "But we appreciate being held. Logically, we understand the gesture." 

They squeeze around her shoulders, and she sighs contentedly. Legion's sensors stare forward. They very well may die tomorrow, any new data they experienced lost forever before they can self-archive and upload back to the main servers. If this is the case, then they are content to know that this might be the last sensory pressure data they receive until they go into battle. 

There _was_ a hole, but Shepard-Commander filled it.


End file.
